Harry Potter Final Goodbye

**DISCLAIMER: Owning Harry Potter. I don't make a habit of it.**

* * *

The mood at Grimmauld Place was never what one would describe as pleasant, but Harry noticed that there was something off about this morning in particular. Maybe it was his nerves, but he couldn't help the feeling that he was walking in a ghost town when he descended the stairs to the kitchen. He'd been mulling over the idea ever since he'd first come to stay for the summer, but he'd only finally worked up the courage last night to say something.

_Great_, he thought bitterly, _The day's already miserable and I haven't even asked yet_.

Harry's confidence took another hit when he took his seat at the table. The kitchen was full; the Weasleys were bustling about a recent Quidditch game, Kingsley Shacklebolt was pouring coffee for himself and Mad Eye Moody, and Tonks, Lupin and Hermione were deep in conversation about... something. Harry noticed, with a stab of annoyance, that the one person he'd really wanted to see wasn't there.

Mrs Weasley served Harry a generous helping of breakfast while he handed out the appropriate greetings. Ron stared pointedly until Harry met his gaze, and then gestured for him to join them. Harry forced a grin and shook his head politely. He pushed his breakfast around on his plate, not really interested in eating, and feeling his assurance wither away with every second. By the time Sirius finally entered the kitchen, Harry was completely unnerved.

"Mornin', all." Sirius mumbled. He looked as he always did in the morning; tired and rumpled. To anyone else it just looked as though Sirius had enjoyed a hard night of partying. Harry knew, though, that it was nightmares of his time in Azkaban that kept his godfather from sleeping. Sirius took his seat across from Harry as usual and they swapped a weak, knowing grin.

Perhaps Harry knew so well about Sirius' bad nights because he experienced them too. In fact, they'd crossed each other's paths in the hall on the way to the kitchen at 3:00 that morning. There was a sort of unspoken rule when they met like that in the middle of the night. A kind of 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. They never pried and they spared the patronizing words of comfort, they just kept each other company.

Remembering earlier that morning, sitting in those very seats drinking hot chocolate and swapping stories of better days, Harry's morale rose again. The kitchen was just getting busier, he reasoned that he'd just have to do it quietly. It was now or never, and Harry knew he'd regret it if he didn't.

"Sirius?" he cautioned softly.

His godfather looked up from his coffee, startled, and frowned worriedly. Harry took a moment to steady his nerves (and voice) before continuing.

"I wanted to ask you something." he mumbled, rather stupidly.

Sirius's head tilted to the side and, for a moment, Harry could imagine him as Padfoot, tongue lolled out and panting. The amusing image calmed him enough to get the next words out.

"I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

Harry's heart pounded and he watched as Sirius' face literally drained of colour. Their eyes were locked fiercely, green on silver, as if each were daring the other to look away. Eventually, Sirius looked down again. Harry watched with bated breath, willing his godfather to just say something. When Sirius finally spoke his voice was harsh.

"I don't think so."

Something flared within Harry then. Anger, he decided. No, fury.

"What?" he managed to splutter, his voice quavering under the weight of his emotion.

Sirius didn't answer, he just drained his coffee and looked away. Harry's hands shook, clenched under the table. He couldn't believe it. He'd come to his godfather, trusting him blindly with this one request. Was it too much to ask, seeing his own parents' graves? Afraid that he might explode if he stared any longer, Harry looked away and caught Remus' eye. Remus must have recognized the rage in Harry's face, because he adopted a 'panic station' expression and cleared the room within five minutes. With a warning glance, Remus ushered the last of the group out the door and then shut it behind him.

The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Sirius stood slowly and took his empty cup to the sink. Harry sat and stewed in his anger.

"Is that all?" he finally asked.

Sirius' head bowed, his back turned to Harry.

"You don't think so?" Harry continued.

"That's what I said." Sirius muttered bluntly.

"Why?" Harry demanded.

Sirius fell silent again.

"Why?" Harry pressed, his voice raising.

Silence. Harry rose to his feet.

"Can I at least have a reason? Will you at least tell me why I can't see my mum and dad's grave?"

"SHUT UP!" Sirius suddenly roared, slamming his fists on the bench.

It was too late to salvage the situation, and when Harry next spoke his voice was at full volume.

"Come on, Sirius! You seem so set on keeping me away from them, at least have a good argument ready! What, is there even a reason or do you just like the control?"

Sirius finally turned to face Harry, his expression passionate but unreadable.

"I said no, end of story!" Sirius snapped.

"Really? Well, how about I tell you the beginning of the story? It goes something like 'boy orphaned at two has never even had the chance to say goodbye to his own parents'!"

"Stop it, Harry, please!"

There was a long pause. The two men stood on opposite ends of the kitchen, chests heaving and hearts pounding with exhilaration. Sirius' eyes were wide with a kind of madness and Harry had been stunned into silence by his godfather's plea. Slowly, deliberately, Sirius walked forward and sat at the table. He waited, shivering slightly, for Harry to join him. Harry did so, his movements stiff and robotic.

With a heavy sigh, Sirius spoke, "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry I reacted like that."

Harry watched as Sirius raked his hands through his hair, looking tortured.

"You've really never seen their grave?" he asked softly.

Harry shook his head, "I asked my uncle to take me once when I was nine. Ironically enough it went a little something like this."

Sirius looked down, ashamed, "I shouldn't have flown off the handle."

Harry recognized the guilt in Sirius' face and immediately felt it, too, "Neither should I."

Sirius scoffed bitterly, shaking his head in self disgust, "Please, you had every reason to. I told you that you couldn't go and visit your parents. I'm actually surprised you didn't curse me."

They shared a quiet, solemn laugh.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Harry. Especially not after that performance," Sirius explained, "Truth is, I'm afraid."

Harry frowned nervously. He wanted to comfort his godfather, who'd never looked so vulnerable, but he was frozen in his place.

"I've never visited them either." Sirius whispered, "I suppose I've not had many opportunities over the years but I haven't really got an excuse now. It'd be too easy to sneak away one night under a few protective charms, but I can't."

Sirius looked up and met Harry's eyes, "I'm terrified, Harry. You'll probably think me crazy, but I feel like they'll be angry with me."

"Who?" Harry managed to breath out.

"James and Lily. They'd be furious at me. It was all my fault that you had to live with those awful Muggles. All my fault that you've been in so much danger with nobody to comfort you. All my fault that you can't sleep at night... James specifically told me to take care of you. How could I show my face to them?"

Silence fell again. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't angry anymore. It was a kind of tragic solemnity. Harry wasn't sure he knew what to say. He was gripped with the urge to reach over and comfort Sirius _somehow_, but every gesture seemed too weak. He knew there was no way he could just leave it now that he knew how his godfather felt, but what could he say?

"Do you really think my father would hate you?" he finally asked.

Sirius looked at him as if he were mad, "Haven't you been listening?"

Harry ignored him, returning the skeptical stare with a pointed one. Finally, Sirius crumbled.

"I suppose not..." Sirius sighed, "But it's easy to think he would."

"I know..." Harry muttered, "I feel the same way."

Sirius' head snapped up so fast Harry thought his neck might crack.

"What?" he demanded.

Harry shook his head, "I sometimes wonder if... If he and mum would be disappointed in me. In the way I've turned out."

"Do you really think your father would be disappointed in you?"

Harry looked up to see Sirius grinning. He couldn't help but laugh along. When the final silence fell over the pair, it was completely comfortable.

"One day."

"Sorry?" Harry asked.

"One day we'll go to Godric's Hollow." Sirius said, "But we can't go now. Not with the Ministry after us both."

Harry smiled, "Thank you."

"Thank_ you_," Sirius nodded, "For kicking me in the arse about how much of a princess I've been. I've said it once and I'll say it a thousand times more; you really are your father's son, Harry."

* * *

**Ain't that nice?**

**Phew, that was a bit of a marathon-write. I had this idea today, it kind of stuck with me. I hope ya'll like it, I really tried to make it worth the read. I know there's nothing worse than having five minutes of free time and then wasting it on a crappy fic. Rightio, thanks for reading and PLEASE review if you liked it. Even if you didn't like it. Just say 'hi'. :)**


End file.

Harry Potter, Angst, Hurt-Comfort